On the fourth floor of the British Museum, in a quiet corner far from the mummies and the Rosetta Stone, is an unremarkable door. (0) _________ I first opened the door a few years ago, holding a piece of paper with some scribbled directions. (13) __________ Instead, after a brief ID check, I was shown into a room with a glass ceiling, elegantly carved gallery and cabinets stocked with cardboard boxes. (14) __________ Two million prints and 50,000 drawings are stored here, from a Virgin and Child by Rembrandt to a drawing of a philosopher by Michelangelo. (15) _________ But unlike most others of its kind, this one is not locked away. The British Museum's Study Room happens to be London's most democratic and accessible collection of masterpieces. (16) _________ Visitors don't need a membership card, a reader's pass or a letter supporting their research project. They don't have to keep a safe distance from the art to prevent the alarm going off. Yet no one I mentioned it to has heard of it. (17) __________ According to the museum's website, visitors may ask to see any print or drawing. But relatively few people seem to find their way here. Conservators are probably grateful for that. (18) _________ But there is no substitute for looking at an original. No screen image can quite replace the time-travel feel of being in the presence of the work itself. (19) _________ The sketch shows a bearded, cloaked man holding a roundish object: perhaps a rock, a crystal or a skull. (20) _________ I looked at it until the archivist told me they were about to close for the day.
